What do you mean?
by arinhel.melleide
Summary: 'Clarke was so frustrated with herself. She did not want to be like this, she was stronger than this. At least, she had thought she was, but maybe she had started to believe in her own mask.' This can be considered as a continuation of my last Flarke piece but it can stand alone. Rated T for safety.


"What do you mean, you don't know what I mean?"

"I don't know what you are talking about! That's what I mean."

"How can you not know what I'm talking about? We've been having this discussion for the past half hour!"

"No, we haven't! You've been talking at me for the past twenty minutes! I didn't register anything after you said the words, 'I'm not keeping it!'"

Clarke just stared, openmouthed, up at Finn. He so rarely raised his voice about anything, and the depth of his anger, directed at her, no less, was startling. He was standing over her having risen from his seat next to her on the couch in the bunker when he started shouting. She had not expected this would be his reaction at all. That he would be angry about her decision had never crossed her mind, but Clarke had mostly been thinking about how this would affect herself.

How she would live with the guilt of her own decision? How she would tell her mother. If she would tell her mother at all? That was when she had thought about Finn.

The look on his face when she told him had almost broken her heart. There had been surprise and a little fear at first, which was soon taken over by something that was painfully close to joy. He had started to ask a bunch of questions, but she had cut him off with the now hated words, then she went on to explain the reasons behind her decision.

Now that she actually thought about it, how could Finn be the guy she was pretty sure she was in love with and react any differently to this? She looked down at her feet. "I'm sorry, Finn. I hadn't really thought about how this would affect you."

"Then why in hell did you tell me at all, Clarke?" There was still anger in his tone, hands running through his hair in frustration, but he was no longer shouting and he sat down on the edge of the table across from her.

"I'm not really sure," Clarke had been watching him, but averted her gaze down to her feet after seeing his expression. It almost looked like pity. The anger she could deal with, but pity, coming from him, hurt her too much. "I guess, I just thought you should know." She sniffled and wiped at her eyes, unable to look at his face, not wanting to see him stare at her like that. She wanted to remember the joy on his face, and sear it into her memory.

Clarke was so frustrated with herself. She did not want to be like this, she was stronger than this. At least, she had thought she was, but maybe she had started to believe in her own mask.

Clarke had approached Finn in camp and asked him if she could get his opinion on some tracks that she found by the 'art supply store'. He had been surprised by her request, at her talking to him at all really, not to mention her use of their nickname for the bunker.

They had come to an agreement about a month ago, not to go out of their way to talk to each other, unless it was really important. She had taken it a little more to heart in the last couple weeks and had barely said two words to him that were not general greetings or inquiries about his health. He had noticed she had been disappearing after breakfast in the mornings, and coming back sometime later looking a little like she had been throwing up.

They had walked in relative silence, and Finn could not help watching her. He missed hanging out with her, talking with her and was glad that she had asked him. He wondered why she looked so distracted on the way, and started to worry, she had almost taken them to the river. He asked about the tracks when they were only a few minutes from the bunker. Clarke said that was just an excuse to get him away from camp, that she needed to tell him something and that she wanted to talk inside.

Here she was in front of him, pouring out her heart and telling him life-altering information. For the first ten minutes, Finn had been kind of excited, actually looking forward to the future. Then she said that sentence, and he had been thrown to the opposite end of the emotional spectrum, landing somewhere near rage.

He regretted his outburst now, seeing the effect it was having on her. She had one arm covering her mouth and nose, trying not to cry, the other was wrapped protectively around her abdomen. He doubted that was a conscious action, given her decision on the matter. It was breaking Finn's heart to see the girl he was in love with like this. She was usually the strong one, the one making all the tough decisions. He realized how tough this decision must have been for her, she had such strong morals when it came to life and death.

"Clarke," he spoke gently now, hoping she would look at him. "Hey, Clarke, look at me." She shook her head. He reached out a hand to turn her face up towards his, but she shook her head again. He decided not to push her, so he moved to sit next to her again. Clarke turned to face the other direction as he sat down, and he sighed, slightly exasperated. Finn put his right arm around her and gently pulled so she was leaning against him.

She flailed her arms a little, no doubt surprised by the shift in her position, but then settled down with her back to his side. His arm ended up across her torso with his hand resting on the bicep of her left arm.

"It's not easy for me, you know?" She said breaking the silence. Finn nodded his head in understanding and gently squeezed her arm in reassurance. "In almost any other circumstance, I would not even consider that as an option. But, with the way our lives are right now, I just think it would be too cruel to keep it." She finally looked up to his face. "We also have to think about how this would affect Raven."

"You're right." She let her head come back to its original position, and he could feel her hair brush against his neck. It brought back memories that he had been trying, and failing, to suppress. "I know what this would do to her, but I just can't ignore what I feel for you anymore, Clarke." He kissed her hair, and then laid his head on hers. They sat in contented stillness, just enjoying the other's presence, like they had the night that was now the origin of all their joy, and their suffering.

Eventually Clarke moved her hand atop his, pulling it from her arm to hold it in both hands. She twisted it this way and that, futzing with his fingers, and running hers along the lines of his palm. She could feel that he had turned his head to look at what she was doing. The young woman had missed this, their casual intimacy and easy friendship. Clarke missed that feeling of knowing that she was safe when she was around this guy.

"You know," she paused in her action as Finn started talking again, "a few days ago, this morning even, if asked I would have said that my only plan for the future was to get everyone to survive the next day or through the week. And making sure you and Bellamy didn't start a war while we were at it. Ouch, hey!"

She had pinched his hand as punishment for the comment about Bellamy, and he gently shook her in retaliation. They both chuckled at their childish behavior before Finn continued. "But, as soon as you told me, I had all these thoughts in my head. About what my life would be like six months from now, a year from now. And, for the first time since we landed, I really thought about what living down here for the rest of my life would be like."

Clarke started playing with his hand again, reflecting on what Finn said and how it made her feel. Beginning to really think about what this would do to the both of them, their relationship, even just as friends if she went through with her decision. She found herself replaying his voice in her head and smiling.

"Is it bad that I liked hearing you say that? I know I should feel guilty, but I don't." She turned, tucking his arm into her side, and maneuvered so that she had one of her legs over both of his with the other folded under herself. Her head was resting on top of his shoulder and her arms were wrapped around his neck. "And you know what, Finn?" Mischief lacing her tone, as she thought of something.

"What, Clarke?" She could hear the confused smile in his voice, and pulled back to be able to see it. Finn had a wonderful smile, and it was adorable when he was confused. Not that she would ever say that out loud, his manly feelings of pride would be hurt.

She whispered into his ear. "I can't ignore what I feel, either." Clarke loved the slightly shocked look on his face at what she said.

"What do you mean?" Finn asked, and she smiled, watching the shock melt seamlessly into the expression he had when she had first told him. There was hope and joy gleaming in his eyes.

Clarke leaned up and kissed his cheek. "We're going to keep it. That's what I mean." She started to chuckle a little at the repeat of their earlier conversation, but she stopped when she saw the look of such passionate joy on his face. Finn put both his hands around Clarke's face and pulled her in for a kiss that neither of them would forget any time soon.


End file.
